Sonnet
Most wonderful and strange it seems, that IWho but a little time ago was tostHigh on the waves of passion and of pain,With aching heat and wildly throbbing brain,Who peered into the darkness, deeming vainAll things there found if but One thing were lost,Thus calm and still and silent here should lie,Watching and waiting, --waiting passively.
The dark has faded, and before mine eyesHave long, grey flats expanded, dim and bare;And through the changing guises all things wearInevitable Law I recognise:Yet in my heart a hint of feeling liesWhich half a hope and half a despair.
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